The stairwell and hallway appeared to be lit with a 25 watt bulb. I wouldn’t call it gloomy, but moody. A door ahead and to my right was open, dimly lit with soft reggae music drifting into the hall.
A dark, curly head poked out and grinned at me, then a hand beckoned. I smiled and followed Malcolm in.
Long hallway, with two doors to the left, leading to the bedrooms, one to the right which was the bathroom and at the end of the hall was a living room and kitchen. All were worn, but clean. All décor, except for art work, appeared to be from the 1970s.
“Have a seat,” Malcolm gestured toward his huge, ugly brown couch.
I sank in and snuggled into the corner.
“I hadn’t seen you in awhile. Thought maybe you were gone.”
“No, just lying a little low. Do a lot of my work at night. We’re about done on Second Floor so it’s just been a really small crew.”
“Hmmmm.” I didn’t really know what to say. My need to sleep was overwhelming and interfering with my usual sparkling repartee.
“So some fisherman showed up, crying over Lauren?”
“That’s about it in a nutshell. I’m just not feeling as tolerant as usual.”
“Lauren has that effect on people.”
“What? Aren’t you one of her groupies?”
Malcolm laughed, a good deep laugh. “No. Definitely not. Got her number a long time ago. I don’t relish all the drama.”
I sighed. “Me either. But she didn’t give me any choice but to move in with her, so I get some drama by default.”
“She screwed up. You could get her in a lot of trouble, you know. Jeff isn’t very happy with her work anyway, and you should be able to have a bunkhouse room if you want one.”
I shrugged. “We’ll see. I’m going to let her know that I want one when one opens up.”
“I’d let you move into my extra bedroom, but due to another Lauren screw-up, I think the new Japanese egg tech is going to be my roomie.”
I just smiled sleepily at Malcolm and he smiled back.
“Hey,” he said, “want some popcorn to go with the movie.”
“Sure,” I said, “sounds great. What are we watching?”
“One of the Lethal Weapon movies, not sure which one.”
“Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Man he had a nice smile. Wondered how old he was. “My thought exactly. Won’t even matter if you fall asleep.”
Malcolm sat down on the couch next to me then put his arm around me and snuggled me under his shoulder. I rested my head on his chest and gave a contented sigh. He pulled an afghan of every imaginable color over the both of us and then I drifted off to the comforting noises of car chases and gun shots.
I didn’t sleep for long. Warm lips and breath ruffled my hair as Malcolm spoke into my hair. “Boy, you didn’t last long. Thought you wanted some popcorn?”
“Malcolm, you have a very comfortable body.”
I kept my eyes shut, but his rueful chuckle jiggled my body. “I’m not so sure that that’s a compliment.”
“Quit laughing. You’re disturbing my rest.”
“Well, I have to admit that I find you a bit disturbing, too.”
That made me open an eye and look up at his face.
“Does that mean you’d like me to go?”
“No, that doesn’t mean that at all.”
He lowered his face to mine and gently and very slowly kissed my cheek, below my ear, my jaw line…I gave a contented little shiver and didn’t feel nearly so tired.
“Um…” I said. He just smiled at me and waited.
“I…I’m not sure what to say,” I said, “but I have a feeling this may not be such a good idea.”
“Undoubtedly,” Malcolm agreed, “and yet…the idea is pretty appealing, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sure if appealing is the right word. Maybe tempting.” I was speaking with my lips resting against the base of his very warm throat. He smelled so good and masculine.
“You know,” I continued, “you don’t smell like fish at all.”
Malcolm gave another small laugh. “That’s because I work with the frozen fish.”
“Malcolm, I suspect that you don’t work at all.”
Bigger laugh. “Ssshhh. That’s supposed to be a secret.”
I pulled back and looked at him full in the face. I can usually read people pretty well, when I want to. My problem lies in my willingness to be lied to, but it was time to get over that. “So what do you do all day?”
“Now, that, Petra, is a secret.”
“Really?”
Malcolm nodded and leaned down and kissed me softly, lingering, very tantalizing. I snuggled closer and put my arms around him, leaning in. We continued with what we were doing. Conversation on hold for several minutes. Then Malcolm pulled back. His hand cupped my head and he gently pressed my head against his chest again. He reoriented us toward the tv.
“What?” I said, “you really want to watch Lethal Weapon again.”
“No,” he replied, “but we’re going to anyway. You can fall asleep, but you’re going to be good and keep your lips and hands to yourself.”
“Did I offend you?” I asked, stealing myself for the dreaded affirmative.
“Not at all. But before this goes any further, we’re going to actually have a conversation or two. So just relax, go to sleep, and get up here earlier tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Probably a terrible idea. But yeah.”
“I don’t know,” I said, ready to drift asleep again, “doesn’t seem to be that bad an idea.”
“Trust me, it is. But there is something about you, Petra, that makes me think ‘what the hell’ and I want to anyway.”
“Want to what?” I asked with mock innocence.
Malcolm sighed. “Petra, just be a good girl. Just for tonight.”
And with that I stretched out on the couch, my head in Malcolm’s lap, and burrowed under the afghan into a contented sleep.
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